The Final Adventure
by altus-scriptor
Summary: Its been a long time since Wendy and Peter last saw each other and now Wendy gets one last adventure. Written in collaboration with Cathaign, another fanfic author. PeterxWendy


The party was going off without a hitch. All around the giant ball room couples danced to the sound of dreamy 1920's music. At the many tables piled high with food people talked and laughed, sharing memories and stories of when they were little and stuck in orphanages where rats and cockroaches were playmates rather than toys.

At the head table a man stood and lightly rapped his fork against his crystal wine glass. The room quieted down and the couples all turned to see who was calling them to attention. The man was old, in his early 90's at least, but had a distinction of honor and quiet dignity about him that caused all in the room to stand at rapt attention. His strong voice, not a voice one would expect in a man so old, boomed out steadily,

"Friends and family, we are here today to honor Lady Wendy Darling, my sister and quite possibly the best loved woman in the world."

A loud applause thundered for a few moments before dying down again allowing the man to speak once more.

"To many of us Wendy is more than just a friend, she is a mother. When we needed stories she told them in abundance, when we were sick she gave us medicine, and when we needed a kiss she always had one to place upon our brow. Wendy gave her life to saving children around the world.

"I remember when we were younger, before she was old enough to leave our family nursery, she told us stories before bed, and then, when several orphans we came to know as brothers were dropped into our lives, it was Wendy who asked Father if we could keep them."

He paused, and allowed for those same brothers to chuckle.

"And then, when World War one started, Wendy went from house to ravaged house, against the wishes of our parents, to rescue the new orphans. She would bring home five or six at a time, and she would tell them all stories. She always told fantastic stories, as many of you remember, I'm sure.

"In her early twenties, after all of her friends had married, Wendy decided to start this foundation to take care of orphans. She used our family home in the beginning, and we brothers helped her raise money and petition our father's bank for loans in order to keep the place running. By the time the program was well known, World War Two had erupted."

Again he paused, but this time to honor fallen friends.

"Wendy would not let Michael, Nibs, Tootles, Slightly, the twins or me go off to fight. She told us that she needed our help still. She really could have managed without us being underfoot, but during those dark times, we stayed by her side, helping our illustrious story-telling sister take care of all the little ones she brought in. We built her a bomb shelter, and although it was not nearly as nice as the house we built her as children, as it did not have a window, or a chimney, or even a door knocker, but it was large and safe."

Again, the elderly, stately woman's family hid childlike giggles behind their champagne flutes.

"From World War Two, the program grew ever larger. It was such a sad sight to see, and my wife could finally be convinced to take some of the orphans over crowding my family home into our own. After that miracle, what with the two of us already having four children of our own, my brothers and I decided to build Wendy and her children an even larger home. We pan-handled for donations, which our fellow citizens were willing to give so long as they did not have to take in any orphans of their own, and we built this place, this Neverland Manor."

The elderly woman at his side gave a gracious smile and lightly touched her brother's arm. Michael looked down at her and smiled softly before continuing,

"My sister is a precious angel to children, and even today, on her 98th birthday, she continues to bring joy and hope to orphaned children. Ladies and gentlemen it is my honor to present Lady Wendy Darling."

The gentle white haired woman, still beautiful for her age, stood on shaky legs and smiled at the room around her. Her voice was soft and girly, as though she'd never grown an adult one.

"Thank you all so much for coming, it is such a wonderful thing to see you all again. I'm afraid I'll be retiring to my rooms now, but please stay as long as you like and eat all of my cake. I should hate for any of that to go to waste. Thank you and may you all never stop dreaming."

A servant behind her firmly grasped her arm and led the tired woman out of the hall to the roar of applause. Michael watched his sister exit with eyes softened by tears. He was so lucky to have Wendy as a big sister.

Back at the Darling house, Wendy donned her nightgown of white and pink before lifting the covers and crawling into her bed. The window was open, as always, though Peter hadn't come since the beginning of the war. Sighing Wendy pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes to sleep. Before she could even so much as turn over a young man's voice called out quietly,

"Excuse me Lady, but do you know where Wendy is?"

Her breath caught in her throat. The voice was deeper, older, but definitely Peter's. Eagerly Wendy opened her eyes and sat up in bed.

"Peter!"

The person in front of her wasn't a little boy any longer but a young man of about 18. He was nicely muscled, handsome of face, and still clad in the same leafy green clothing. It was Peter, but he'd aged since she last saw him.

"Peter, it's me, its Wendy!"

Peter's face took on surprise and then sadness as he stared at the woman before him. She sounded like Wendy, but she was so old! Still, the eyes were the same kind blue, and the lips were the same ones that kissed him when Hook was still causing trouble. He took a trembling step forward and stretched out his hand.

"Wendy?"

She smiled and giggled like a little girl. From behind him Tinkerbelle watched with dreamy eyes.

"Wendy," Peter began again, "what happened?"

Wendy's girlish disposition faded then, leaving behind the graceful, white-haired woman that had lived through several wars and seen worldly things such as death.

"I grew up," she whispered. Wendy saw him start to ask something, and answered before he could make a fool of himself as he had always been wont to do in difficult situations.

"I grew up because I had to," she said. Wendy smiled reassuringly at the boy who was her first love, and then hugged her housecoat closer to her frail body as a gust of chilly air rushed through the open window. A cough racked through her and, much to Peter's horror, he gown was blood red when she pulled it away from her lips.

"You're bleeding!"

Wendy raised eyes filled with guilt and said quietly,

"I'm old, Peter. I'm old and I'm sick"

Peter looked as though someone shot him in the heart. In all the years he'd watched Wendy, even as a snotty little toddler, she never got sick.

"You're not…you're not dying are you, Wendy?"

Wendy smiled reassuringly and shrugged her small shoulders.

"We all die, Peter. It's nothing to be afraid of, just another adventure."

Peter's mouth pressed into a thin line. Voice firm and resolute he said,

"You will not die, Wendy. I won't let it happen."

Another giggle bubbled from Wendy's lips, but it wasn't the giggle of a little girl, it was the giggle of a woman who'd seen people die and knew it would happen to her.

"Oh Peter, you can't stop death. It will happen, eventually."

Peter shook his obstinate golden head and held out his hand.

"Nope, I'm going to save you like you saved me."

Hesitantly, Wendy laid her hand in Peter's. His grip was firm and warm, just like she remembered.

"Peter, I'm not afraid of this. I've lived a very long, full life, and this is just the next step."

Peter's eyes, though he would vehemently deny it, were rapidly filling with tears. His other hand closed over her tiny, pale one, and he asked, "Then can I take you on one last adventure to Neverland?"

Wendy smiled again, though not the smile she had used earlier to placate his fears. This smile was warm and genuine, if a little sad around the edges of her mouth.

"I'd like that, Peter. I'd like that very much. Let me leave a note for the boys, alright? And I need to grab something a bit warmer than this, I'll bet, if you haven't left your tree house."

Peter grinned, whooped, and circled the air once in giddiness. Wendy was coming home.

A while later, longer than Peter would have liked, Wendy declared herself to be ready to go on an adventure. She was wearing the same nightgown, though she'd wrapped a belt around the waist and hung a sword on it. She was barefoot, as always, since shoes weren't required for flying.

"Do you remember how to fly?"

Wendy smiled and nodded. She paused for a moment as Tink sprinkled her with the famed pixie dust. Wendy looked at the younger occupant of the room, and began to lift into the air for the first time in many, many years. Again, he held out a tanned, calloused hand to her, and she took it far less hesitantly than before. Together, they rose until Peter's hair brushed the ceiling, and drifted out the French window into the night sky.

Michael walked up the stairs to the old Nursery where Wendy insisted on sleeping. A draft seeped out from beneath the door, but Michael was used to it. Wendy never shut the window "just in case", as she was apt to quote. He gave a soft knock on the door and opened it when there was no response.

Wendy's bed was messy indicating she'd been in it, but there was no Wendy to be seen. The only thing different about the room was an envelope sitting on the windowsill. Almost afraid Michael picked it up and opened it. It was Wendy's handwriting, though a little shaky.

_Boys,_

_I know you will all be angry with me for going on an adventure without you but Peter said he could only take me this time. I love you all very much and hope you don't stay mad at me for long. Don't forget to put flowers on John's grave every Wednesday and be sure to take your medicine like good children. _

_All my love,_

_Wendy_

A tear was falling down Michael's face. He knew Peter would come for Wendy, but for the first time Michael felt a pang of sadness pull at his heart.

"Goodbye Wendy, you will be missed."


End file.
